We all have a morning routine. Wake up/check phone/shower/makeup/make lunch/whatever; if one thing is done out of sequence we freak out. Before I leave I pack my essentials in my bags, jingle my coat pocket to hear my keys, and ask, “Do we have everything?” Yesterday I blurted out, “Do we have today?” I blame the gibberish on the lack of coffee and thought nothing of it. The commute into work was a mix of workers with their heads down and families excited to see the Marathon. I think I was a mix of both. No one was really in the office and my boss said if you get your work done, you can head out. Elated, I met up with my friend near Fenway Park, finally taking in the Marathon scenes (I’ve watched but never been).
A couple hours go by filled with laughs, beers, and fried food when texts came. My sister was watching the race on Boylston Street and said there was an explosion. Not even a minute later she writes there was another one. Not really sure what to think, I asked the waitress to please turn on the news. We couldn’t believe our eyes. Calls were going unanswered and texts were delayed. I assumed my sister was okay but didn’t know how she was going to get to her apartment close by. My boyfriend works a block away. Once I finally heard from them and found out I couldn’t meet up with them, we started walking towards Allston among the crowds of urgent, stupefied crowds. Thankfully our mutual friend picked us up and we headed to her apartment in Cambridge. We made checked in with family and looked for answers on the news. At this moment I have very few answers. Who could have done such a thing? On the most innocent, celebratory days in this city? I don’t know if it will ever be the same.
Which brings me back to my accidental blurt yesterday morning, “Do we have today?” We can make sure we’re packed up for the day ahead all we want, but no one can be prepared for catastrophes. As we Bostonians (and heck, everywhere) try to get on with our lives, make sure you have today. Make sure you live it to its greatest extent and fill it with love; you might not have any more today’s left.
To the runners, your today was filled with a valiant effort. You put your bodies to the limit and your hard work is ever appreciated. To the volunteers, your today was heroic. You ran to the injured crowds instead of running away. To the victims, your today was supposed to be filled with joy. To the slain, your today prematurely ended.
My heart goes out to everyone involved in yesterday’s tragedy. While we will never forget in the days to come, let’s start our today’s with more compassion, hope for humanity, and a tighter hug.